The normalisation of far-right ideas also takes place through parties regarded as more moderate. This is demonstrated by a study of the policy statements made by prime ministers since 1959. One of the most striking findings is the role played by ‘centrist’ heads of government (notably Édouard Philippe, Jean Castex and Gabriel Attal) in spreading far-right ideas.‘ ’Ideological victory’ “Ideological victory”: in January 2024, Marine Le Pen did not hesitate to describe the law “To control immigration, improve integration”, passed by the Attal government, in these terms. A year later, François Bayrou, a centrist figure within the majority, publicly expressed concern about a “flood” of migrants. These talking points illustrate a broader phenomenon: far-right ideas, once marginal, seem to have found their place in the rhetoric and practices of politicians who are not traditionally affiliated with the far right.
How did we get to this point? What does this shift reveal about the transformation of political debate in France?<[p/>
A novel method: automated analysis of general policy speeches
To answer this question, we analysed all general policy statements delivered since 1959, totalling thirty speeches. These texts, often lengthy and programmatic, constitute a unique body of material: they summarise the government’s priorities upon taking office and set out the political course before the National Assembly. In other words, they provide a formal and regular snapshot of the ideology at the highest levels of government.
To measure the presence of far-right ideas, we developed an indicator, the far-right ideological score (Sied). Based on seven key dimensions found in most definitions of the far right – nationalism, anti-immigration, anti-democracy, anti-progress, authoritarianism, traditionalism and anti-egalitarianism – it enables us to identify, using natural language processing tools, the proportion of these ideas in each speech.
From the 1970s to the present day: a steady rise
The results are unequivocal: the proportion of far-right ideas in general policy statements has been rising steadily since the mid-1970s, following a long-term trend that extends well beyond changes in government (see graph). Following high levels at the start of the Fifth Republic – notably under Michel Debré and Georges Pompidou, against the backdrop of the Algerian War of Independence – the trend saw a marked decline during the 1970s.
From this period onwards, the trend reversed permanently. The far-right ideological score rose gradually throughout the 1980s and 1990s, levelled off somewhat at the turn of the 2000s, and then began to rise sharply again from the 2010s onwards. The most recent rhetoric has thus reached levels comparable to those observed during the most turbulent periods of the early 1960s, but within a far more stable institutional context than that of the regime’s early years.
Our study shows that far-right ideas do not circulate solely within parties that identify as such. Prime Ministers from the right, the centre and even the left have, to varying degrees, adopted expressions or framing characteristic of this ideological register.
This phenomenon is hardly surprising. As the American political scientist Cas Mudde points out, the far right does not create ex nihilo: it radicalises ideas already present in society – attachment to the nation, the valorisation of order, or mistrust of equality. The concept of the nation offers a good example: it can be understood in an inclusive sense, as a shared political project, or, conversely, as a closed community, defined by birth or supposed racial affiliation.
By promoting these exclusive interpretations, prime ministers have, since the 1970s, helped to blur the line between far-right rhetoric and institutional language. This observation is all the more striking given that policy statements – those solemn addresses in which a head of government presents their programme to the National Assembly – are supposed to be consensual, intended to rally a majority. Yet even within this codified framework, the lexicon has shifted: terms that were once unthinkable have become established, gradually broadening the boundaries of what can be said.
Understanding these findings through the lens of metapolitics
Traditionally, researchers have explained the spread of far-right themes through electoral co-optation: parties occasionally adopt certain elements of their opponents’ programmes to appeal to their electorate. Nicolas Sarkozy, for example, made frequent references to ‘national identity’ in 2007 and 2012.
But our findings show that this explanation is insufficient. Even during periods when this strategy did not pay off electorally, we observe a rise in the far-right ideological score in the speeches of prime ministers from the centre or the left. In other words, this spread is not merely the result of strategic calculation: it reflects a lasting shift in political language.
This is where the concept of ‘metapolitics’ comes into its own.
This idea was developed on the far right by the New Right, an intellectual movement founded in 1969 around the think tank Groupement de recherche et d’études pour la civilisation européenne (Grece), which aimed to rehabilitate reactionary, even fascist thought on a European scale following the Second World War. To this end, metapolitics is based on a simple idea: before seizing power, society must be transformed; and to do so, the words, symbols and frameworks of thought that structure it must be reinvented.
In other words, the aim is to shape public opinion to make it more receptive to its ideas, rather than seeking to convince people directly on the basis of a clearly identifiable political programme. This is a strategy espoused by certain prominent members of the French far right, such as
The concept of the ‘Overton window’ can help to understand a principle underlying metapolitics. An idea that was previously unthinkable can become politically legitimate if it is regularly raised, debated or rephrased in more neutral terms. Whenever a politician – even a moderate one – employs rhetoric centred on security, anti-immigration or anti-egalitarianism, they contribute, whether intentionally or not, to widening this window: what seemed extreme yesterday becomes a common opinion today.
By altering symbolic frameworks and associations of meaning, politicians who are not affiliated with the far right have contributed – willingly or unwillingly – to a metapolitical process that favours the spread of its ideas. In doing so, they have helped to bring these ideas into the language of power, to the point where they have become familiar even beyond the circles of those who traditionally espouse them.
Since 2017, the way in which the government talks about immigration – notably by adopting, even more so than Marine Le Pen does, the metaphor of a flow ready to overflow – is a good example of this.
The centre: a key player in the spread of far-right ideas
One of the most striking findings of our study is the role of the political centre in the spread of far-right ideas. Prime Ministers who claim to represent the centre – and who often present themselves as figures of moderation – have, paradoxically, helped to accelerate this shift towards extremism.
Whilst some right-wing prime ministers (such as Michel Debré, Jacques Chirac and Édouard Balladur) occasionally achieve particularly high far-right ideological scores (Sied), others score lower (Jacques Chaban-Delmas, Maurice Couve de Murville and Jean-Pierre Raffarin). The right is thus characterised by internal dispersion on the Sied, suggesting the influence of other contextual factors in the mobilisation of far-right ideas. For example, the appointment of Jacques Chaban-Delmas was marked by Georges Pompidou’s desire to reach out to the Social Democrats. This is reflected in the much-discussed ‘new society’ in Chaban-Delmas’s speech, in which he denounced a country of ‘castes’ and excessive inequalities.
Conversely, prime ministers from the centre have consistently high and relatively uniform Sied scores, particularly in recent times (Édouard Philippe, Jean Castex and Gabriel Attal). The maximum difference observed within the centre – between Élisabeth Borne and Jean Castex – does not exceed 3 points on the SIED scale, whereas it exceeds 8 points between Jacques Chaban-Delmas and Michel Debré, the two right-wing prime ministers with the most contrasting scores.
This pattern is reflected in the distribution of scores: among the five prime ministers with the highest Sied scores, there are three from the right and two from the centre, whilst the five lowest scores include one from the left and four from the right. The centre thus occupies the upper end of the spectrum more consistently: with the exception of Élisabeth Borne, all centrist prime ministers are above the median, making them a more consistent force in normalising this ideological spectrum.
In their general policy statements, several centrist prime ministers employ a converging technocratic and security-focused vocabulary.
Édouard Philippe, for instance, refers to ‘migration pressure’ and the ‘tensions’ this allegedly places on national cohesion, within a framework of administrative management of migration flows. Jean Castex, for his part, calls for ‘restoring the authority of the State’ in the face of a ‘coalition of enemies of the Republic’ combining terrorism, separatism and extremism. Finally, Gabriel Attal repeatedly uses the metaphor of ‘rearmament’ – of the state, the education system or public policies – framing government action in martial terms.
Taken together, these frames help to permanently embed, within the language of power, representations historically associated with the far right, albeit in euphemised forms.
Normalising the far right by presenting itself as the sole voice of reason
In seeking to embody reason and compromise, the centre has often adopted the themes of the far right in order to better frame or ‘rationalise’ them. But this strategy has the opposite effect: it legitimises these themes by embedding them in the language of government.
By defining itself as the pole of moderation, the centre adopts a role as arbiter rather than competitor in the democratic process. However, whilst enjoying a position of strength when in power, the centre tends to pit the far right and the left against each other. This is a double win for the far right, which finds itself normalised (by becoming one extreme amongst others), whilst one of its main opponents is demonised, with the left now being portrayed as extremist.
This dynamic is not limited to short-term electoral calculations. It is part of a structural transformation. As the economists Julia Cagé and Thomas Piketty explain, the expansion of the centre, by weakening the traditional left- and right-wing parties, has contributed to the polarisation of the political landscape. By presenting itself as ‘above the divides’ whilst implementing policies largely aligned with the right-wing agenda (or even adopting some of its framing), the centre is shifting the political frame of reference. This process helps to render themes and analyses initially championed by the far right first questionable and then acceptable.
As the historian Johann Chapoutot points out, this tension between economic liberalism and reactionary forces is nothing new. In his latest essay, he shows how the liberal elites of the Weimar Republic believed they could channel authoritarian forces by integrating them into the institutional framework – only to become their first victims. This historical parallel highlights the fragility of a political centre which, in seeking to exploit the far right, sometimes ends up paving the way for it.